


Between your ears

by kaitlia777



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Gen, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-16 11:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitlia777/pseuds/kaitlia777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki decides to play a little trick on the team</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the quote _“Gender is between your ears and not between your legs.”_
> 
> Note #2: I picked actors and actresses I though fit the look I wanted for the genderswapped characters, not the ages. Rachel Bilson is way too young to play Tony, so just imagine her aged up a bit!

“Well, I wish I could say this is the strangest thing ever to happen to us, but really, who are we kidding?”

Standing on the roof of a Manhattan high-rise, Steve Rogers sighed is Tony's glib comment filtered through his comm-link. All around him, most of the other members of the team were staggering to their feet (having been knocked down by a green pulse of Magick moments before Loki up and disappeared) and realizing all was not right. Each team member seemed dazed (except for Bruce, who was unconscious post de-Hulking), though they all turned to Thor in hopes of an explanation.

“This is one of my brother’s favored jests from our youth,” Thor said, heaving a sigh but not sounding terribly put out. “Fear not, as it is but a temporary change.”

“Any idea how long this ‘ _jest_ ’ will last?” Clint asked, understandably far less placid about everything Loki related.

Nodding, Thor did some calculations in his head. “Three Midgardian months.”

Clint, Natasha and Tony each reacted with hearty swears (each a different language), while Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to five. “Okay, Thor, please cover Bruce with your cape, he's going to be unsettled enough about public nudity to worry about.”

As there was nothing else to do on site now that Loki had bugged out, Steve tapped his comm, switching from the team only channel to the one that broadcast to S.H.I.E.L.D. “Director Fury, we have a situation.”

“Who the fuck is this?!”

 _Lovely._ “It’s me, Cap. As I said, we have a situation.”

* * *

“Sir, I don't think laughing is helping.”

Though Phil understood Fury’s reaction, he also saw the increasingly disgruntled expressions on the faces of the Avengers, particularly Bruce, which never led to hugs and puppies.

Bruce aside, none of the Avengers looked pleased…well, Thor didn't seem particularly upset himself, but he kept apologizing for Loki's “bad behavior” and Steve just seemed embarrassed and unsure where to look.

Heaving a sigh and ignoring his boss, who continued to chuckle every time he looked at any member of the team (and yes, seeing Nick Fury practically giggling was actually weirder than anything else that it happened), Phil said, “All of you have to fill out a 202-ISSC(M) form before you can….”

“You have a form for this?!”

Stark’s voices was reaching a dangerously high note and Phil chose to continue, “I’ve sent copies of the form to your tablets…and yes Stark, we have forms for everything.”

Even crazy alien magic involved involuntary spontaneous sex changes.

Yeah, sometimes Phil wondered how this had become his life…because some things were just mind blowing.

Things like the fact that he now knew what several of his coworkers and friends would have looked like had they been born xx instead of xy or vice versa.

Sitting in his usual seat at the conference table, Steve managed to look both shell-shocked and stunning. He was tall for a woman, about 6’, and the stretchy qualities of his uniform made it obvious that he was still strong but the muscles were sleek as opposed to bulky. Abundant breasts nipped into a tiny waist that flowed to lushly curved hips. His jaw was rounder, nose and browse more refined and his hair (oh God, where had that come from?) tumbled down around his shoulders in long, tousled golden waves, nearly obscuring the familiar blue eyes.

Stark was sitting beside Cap, clearly pissed off and not afraid to say so. He'd found an elastic somewhere and had wrangled his massive black hair into a sloppy ponytail, holding it back from a heart-shaped, doe wide face. He was clad in a longsleeved Metallica tee that he had on under the Iron Man suit, but it angrily kicked off his jeans after tripping several times, the legs far too long to maneuver at a petite 5’2”.

Looking like a tall, gorgeous, Swedish model, Thor seemed resigned (but as he had said, Loki had done this before) to suddenly being a woman. Somehow, his hair fell in perfectly coiffed waves to his waist and his armor (enchanted as it was) seem to have refit itself to accommodate his new form.

Bruce was now tall and slender, with long dark hair and it intriguingly husky voice. Surprisingly, he hadn't lost any height, but his body proportions at shifted to emphasize long, long legs. He was swathed in blue scrubs from medical and clutching a mug of tea as he glowered at Fury, who was finally making an effort to stop chuckling.

Now a good-looking young man, Natasha was doing her best to look nonplussed and, for the most part, succeeding. Occasionally, she made a movement as though to brush a hand through her hair, but caught herself. Then she was approximately Clint's usual size, she had raided his locker for the jeans and a hoodie she was wearing.

Blonder as a woman, Clint had the slender, agile look of a dancer and a gleam in his eye that said he was not going to let this situation get in the way of his life's mission to drive Phil insane. Already, he was grumbling about needing a new bow, as his current arms weren't built to handle his weapons. He was wearing one of his own T-shirts, unfettered breasts bouncing into the fabric as he squirmed in his seat.

Oh, God, they were going to be like this for three months.

There would have to be shopping.

Letting Tony, Clint and Thor loose to purchase bras for themselves was just begging for some kind of incident and Steve would probably have a heart attack at the very idea.

“But seriously, how did you come up with these so-called all-encompassing forms? I can't be the only one was curious,” Tony pressed and Phil sighed.

Stark didn't need to know that, about 10 years earlier, Fury had put fill in a room with a dozen of the biggest nerds on staff and had them come up with paperwork. That was why shield have forms like the 202-ISSC(M) (Involuntary Spontaneous Sex Change (Magic)) or the 109-SAKA(WD) (Self Aware Kitchen Appliances (World Domination)).

“Why does this surprise you? We have a form for the eventuality of kitchen appliances achieving self-awareness and plotting world domination. How does a magical sex change seem outlandish when compared… ”

“Who doesn't have self-aware kitchen appliances?” Tony snipped, then turned to Fury. “You wouldn't be laughing if this had happened to you.”

Eyeing Tony, Fury snorted. “It did not happen to me, because I personally do not attract that kind of epic fuckedupness. Unfortunately, I'm surrounded by people who do, which is why I have Phil…Barton, stop that!”

Clint had pulled the neckline of his T-shirt away from his body and was looking down as he bounced more aggressively in his seat. When admonished, he simply shrugged and said, “It had to be done.”

Phil could already feel a headache coming on and he was relieved to hear a knock on the door. 

Reinforcements.

After the situation was explained to Pepper, Jane and Darcy, the three women gaped for a moment until Thor bounded over to Jane and swept her up into his arms. “Hello, my love,” he said happily, planting a kiss on her…the site of which caused almost everyone in the room to blink.

When he released her, Jane was a bit flustered, but said, “Well, that might take some getting used to.”

“This is insane,” Darcy said, prowling the room and looking everyone over. “Even gender-swapped, you're all still unfairly attractive…Steve, wow, welcome to the Able to Motorboat Yourself Club.”

Steve blinked back her, clearly having no idea what she meant, but offered a tentative, “Thank you?”

“All right, you can handle things here, Phil,” Fury stated and fled before anyone could protest.

Heaving a sigh, Phil said, “Okay, let's go down to supplies and get you each is street ready change of clothes you'll be able to where will shopping…Since there are a variety of tastes involved, I would suggest splitting up into smaller groups.”

And honestly, if they stuck together, they just encourage each other’s insanity.

There was some jockeying for position, but the shopping parties were as such.

Jane took Thor (naturally) and Bruce. Pepper took a relieved Steve (who would look terrified when Darcy tried to grab him first). Darcy ended up with Tony (and Phil had an inkling that probably wasn't a good idea). Natasha and Clint decided to stick together and Phil chose to go with them to keep an eye on things.

God help the retail sales Associates of New York City.

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=Teampics.jpg)

* * *

Since they'd met, Steve had been of the opinion that Pepper was amazing. She was smart, powerful, confident, a knockout stunner and she'd made a career out of knowing how to wrangle Tony (something Steve was still working on). In a way, she reminded him of Peggy, though he harbored no romantic attentions toward Pepper.

He'd managed to rein in his sigh of relief when Pepper decreed that Darcy would be accompanying Tony shopping, not Steve. Not that Steve didn't adore Darcy (she made him laugh, smile and blush for a myriad of reasons and, in terms of actual years lived, she was his closest contemporary among their group of friends), but he was pretty sure they're tasting clothing was miles apart.

Tony had pouted slightly about the handoff, but, by the time they left, both Tony and Darcy were grinning and talking about some shop in the village that sold awesome, vintage band T-shirts.

As they sat in the back of the town car, Pepper ran an eye over Steve, who, at a loss, and simply opted to wear a nondescript sweatsuit. Both he and Thor had had trouble finding clothing in their sizes in the S.H.I.E.L.D. supply room, but he thought the sweats worked okay.

“So, where do you normally buy your clothes?” Pepper finally asked with a smile. “You have a very distinct, classic style.”

He discovered that classic was a nice way to say old-fashioned.

“I don't,” he replied honestly. “All my clothes were either provided by S.H.I.E.L.D. or were in my room when I moved into the tower.”

S.H.I.E.L.D. did that sort of thing a lot, things randomly appearing in his room or fury showing up to give him something, like a tablet computer and a ‘baby agent’ to show him how to use it.

He broken three tablets and nearly driven Agent Cohen to tears before he'd mastered the delicate touch the technology required.

Tony was still trying to shake his teammates out of their sartorial ruts, which had been his reasoning for hacking their files to find their measurements and filling their wardrobes. Steve founded almost amusing when Tony grumbled about his ‘grandpa chic’ style or Clint's ‘incomprehensible hipsters thug’ look or Thor’s ‘chain mail and capes’ or Bruce's ‘weird fondness for all things purple’. He wisely didn't comment about Natasha was fashion choices.

“You haven't bought any clothes for yourself?”

Steve shifted and admitted, “Well, I did buy a T-shirt I really liked from a street vendor.”

Nodding, Pepper encouraged, “What did you like about that particular shirt.”

“The quote printed on it. _Changes the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future._ President John F. Kennedy,” he admitted and saw that Pepper seemed approve his choice. “But I'm thinking you're not taking me to a street fair to shop.”

“No,” Pepper chuckled. “I think Bloomingdale's will better suit our purposes.”

Bloomingdale's. Steve was sure he could handle that. The store was huge and would probably have everything he could possibly need. They could probably be in and out in half an hour.

For the first time since all this insanity had begun, Steve relaxed.

4 1/2 hours later, he stood in front of the three-way mirror wondering if Fury would let him take a three-month vacation. In the woods, with no human contact that would require him to wear nice clothing.

Upon arriving at the store, Pepper had led Steve to the intimates department where he had been set upon by two somber, black clad, skeletal women with measuring tapes who informed him that he was a 34DDD. Bras were complicated things and it'd taken him a few fumbling attempts to get into one (Pepper assured him that the sports bra S.H.I.E.L.D. had provided him would not be good for day-to-day wear), but he had to admit that the flesh toned t-shirt brought and matching boy shorts were less horrible than he had imagined.

Before they left the department, Pepper had added several more bras (of the same style, but white, black and blue) to their order as well as a dozen pairs of underwear. He'd blushed brightly when she told him to choose one pretty set, but he'd grabbed a rich blue satiny set before finally moving on to the safer territory of socks and pajamas.

Active wear was less traumatizing. Yoga pants were incredibly comfortable and sweatshirts were sweatshirts no matter the gender they were designed for. He hadn't known ladies tank tops came with built in bras, but that seemed like a good idea (Pepper still warned him to wear a regular bra with them).

He thought pants were going to be easy, but oh no, nothing was quite long enough and would require tailoring. Black, tan and gray trousers, two pairs of boot cut jeans, a pair of khakis and a pair of cargo pants were selected easily enough before being shipped off to the alterations department. The same went for all button down shirts, which had to be taken in around the abs. T-shirts were easier, as the material stretched to fit his frame.

While he was looking through a rack of blouses, Pepper excused herself to take a call, so he was startled and alone when one of the sales girls appeared brandishing a dress. “You would look amazing in this!” the girl said enthusiastically. “And the length would totally work. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't discovered how much easier it is to find skirts that are the proper length for your legs.”

Steve really hadn't given much thought to dresses. Current body or not, he was a man, so pants. But he didn't want to be rude to the girl, as she was one of the few sales attendants that it actually smiled. “I'm not really the dress type,” he tried to politely turn the garment away.

Unfortunately, she was persistent. “Oh, honey, you can't know how something will suit you until you try it on.”

Seeing no way out, Steve sighed and accepted the dress. After all, it wasn’t like anyone besides the sales girl would ever see him and it.

* * *

After verbally smacking an investor into submission, Pepper reentered the sitting room to see Steve standing in front of a mirror as a sales associate slipped a red headband into his hair, corralling the wild gold stresses. He was wearing an adorable navy blue dress with white polka dots and a thick red belt. The high neckline protected his modesty, while his arms (muscular but not unattractively so) were left bare. His tiny waist was accented by the belt and skirt fell nearly to knee length, swinging prettily as Steve shifted his fire engine red flat clad feet.

He looked like someone people would stop the street to watch pass (okay, yes, that happened normally when he left the tower), beautiful and perfect, like he’d just stepped out of a magazine.

Tony would probably choke on his tongue to see Steve like this.

“You're getting that outfit,” Pepper said, causing Steve to turn big startled eyes in her direction.

“What? Why?” he asked as the sales girl smiled gleefully, scampering off to probably locate more clothes. “I don't need a dress.”

Pepper smiled. “Oh, you certainly need this dress. If only to watch Tony and Clint's brains short out when they see you in it. I'm betting one of them walks into a wall.”

A small smile quirked the corner of Steve's mouth. “That would be funny.”

Nodding, Pepper cocked her head to one side. “How do you feel about heels?”

“No.”

“Just asking.”

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=Stevesnavysleevelesspolkadotdress.jpg)

* * *

“Why can't I just borrow stuff from you?”

Natasha gave Clint a level stare and said, “Because you don't have the chest to wear my shirts.”

He looked affronted. “Hey! My boobs are great! They're perky.”

Sentences like that were why the sales staff had chosen to give them a wide berth. 

“They are,” she assured him. “Mine are simply larger. Enough so that my clothing will hang awkwardly on you.”

Heaving a tremendously put upon sigh, Clint poked at a neat display of sweaters. “Could we at least have gone somewhere less... Ralph Lauren? I hate shopping.”

“We aren't here for you. Just because I can wear your clothes doesn't mean I want to. Just try not to make a scene,” Natasha said, picking up a black, cashmere turtleneck and eyeing it critically.

As Clint considered her words, Phil spoke up from where he was keeping an eye on a couple of college-age guys who were being none too subtle about checking Clint out. “Could be worse Tasha. Think of what shopping with Stark would be like…or Thor. You know he'll see this as an opportunity to indulge in all the sartorial options you've all told him were designed for women. I expect glitter and gold lame.”

“Hopefully Jane and Bruce will try to minimize that,” Natasha mused.

“Wouldn't hold my breath,” Clint snickered. “Jane’s a big fan of Thor being Thor and Bruce is gonna be too busy searching for the stretchiest sports bra known to man.”

“JARVIS already has the fabrication units constructing the necessary garments from the material Stark created for Hulk-proof pants,” Phil said, tapping Clint on the shoulder. “Come on. It's not Dolce, but we should be able to find you something decent in the…other part of the store.”

“Phil, you know me. What's the chance of anything here appealing to me? 0%,” Clint replied dryly.

“They do have denim.”

“I make no promises.”

Natasha sighed and continued to ignore them. Shopping with Clint was never easy and today's incident only served to make him more obstinate. She had the feeling Phil was going to have to ask Thor to pin Clint down so he could take the archers measurements and by him an appropriate wardrobe. 

Not that Clint would wear anything besides a T shirt, hoodie and jeans (when not undercover), but it was the thought that counted.

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=Natasha-1.jpg)

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=clint-1.jpg)

* * *

Initially, Darcy had been disappointed that she wasn't going to be able to play live-action Barbie dress-up with Steve, but she quickly realized shopping with Tony was the better deal. He definitely had a sense of style, which was affronted by the options available in the S.H.I.E.L.D. wardrobe (which was where they kept all the clothes used in undercover assignments or training exercises) and the idea of wearing something a dozen others had worn. Quickly though, they discovered the fact that very few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents came in teacup size and Tony ducked out, leaving Darcy to the labs.

Once there, she realizes plan was to borrow something from Agent Ann Rizzoli, a weapons designer who was friendly with Steve and Tony. The agent was a tiny wisp of a woman, possibly the only person on site small enough to share Tony's current size.

It was strange watching the two of them interact, as they looked _a lot_ alike. Ever since Bruce had pointed out the physical similarities, Darcy had wondered if Papa Stark had been a Rolling Stone, but now it was even more glaring.

Then again, it could be nothing. Look at Steve and Johnny Storm. No way was Flame-boy a descendent of Steve, who, according to rumors, had yet to round first base, but the two of them could totally be twins.

Of course, neither Tony or Ann seemed aware of how they looked, so Darcy kept her mouth shut and they soon walked out with the change of clothes from Ann’s locker. Tony was now clad in tight jeans (and where the hell did a person the size of Tinkerbell find tight jeans? The American Girl Doll store?), Knee-high black leather boots with a chunky heel (Darcy appreciated the fact that Tony didn't even pretend like he couldn't walk in them), a black tank top and a red button up.

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=Tony-1.jpg)

As the arc reactor was kind of distinctive, Tony had been careful to layer the dark colors to mute the glow. Eventually, news of Loki's latest stunt would probably get out, but no one was in a hurry to throw chum into the waters…at least not until Tony was feeling more settled and ready to play bait the paparazzi.

Forty minutes later, Happy ( Tony's ever tolerant chauffeur) drop them off at Bergdorf Goodman. Several of the sales staff gave them curious (and mildly aggrieved) looks… at least until Tony whipped out a Stark Industries issued black on black card. After that, they were swarmed by so many helpful attendants, all offering fittings, drinks or snacks. They wanted the racks, pointing at clothes and shoes (and boots! Darcy was in boot heaven), all of which were promptly delivered to an enormous changing room reserved for them.

When it came time to actually try things on, Tony kicked all the salespeople out (the arc reactor) and stepped over to his rack of clothes. Darcy had a few items herself (Tony like to buy things for people and how often did she get an all access pass to Bergdorf Goodman!).

Given Tony's rep with the ladies, she wasn't all that surprised to find he knew his way around a bra (though there had been a funny moment of confusion when he actually had to put it on). Once he got into a black demi-cup number, he scowled and poked his chest. “I thought this was a push-up.”

Raising a brow, Darcy said, “It is. You just don't have a lot to push-up.” It was true, Tony was never going to know the discomfort of lying on his back and having his boobs attempt to migrate into his armpits or the joy of layering and underwire bra with the sports bra in order to exercise in a little less discomfort. The billionaire looked disgruntled, so she quickly added, “Don’t worry. I grabbed a package of cutlets. Jane swears by them.”

Tony accepted the two silicone enhancers and considered them for a moment before stuffing them into his bra and situating them for maximum effect. “That’s better,” he agreed, them smirked. “And bonus, when we turn back, I bet we can get Steve to pick them up before we tell him what they’re for. That'll be worth a whole new level of Cap blush.”

With a snort, Darcy said, “10 bucks says Clint tries to slap someone with them.”

“If you ever decide S.H.I.E.L.D.’s not living up to your expectations as employer, you'll have a job waiting for you at Stark Industries,” Tony told her with a broad grin, then pointed at her pile of boots. “Try on the Prada boots. Though make your ass look incredible.”

“Psssh. My ass always looks incredible,” she teased, but pulled on the knee-high, brown suede, hidden platform heels. Considering how tall they were, they were quite comfy. “Well?”

Looking up from the designer jeans he was wiggling into, Tony blinked. “Yeah, we're getting those for you.”

They cost more than her first car.

“Is it weird that you're changing in front of me?” she asked, switching the subject. “Not that I mind, but I feel like one of the HR killjoys is going to swoop in and force us to attend this seminar on sexual harassment or something.”

“Please, you live at the tower. How many times have you seen us come back after fight with melted, torn or just plain missing clothes? Well, not me so often, because my suit is awesome, but if we had a harassment lecture every time we were naked in front of each other we wouldn't have time to fight super villains.”

That actually made sense. Bruce alone used to flash them all after every mission (much to his chagrin, not the Darcy thought he had anything to be ashamed of). Heck even she and Jane had been caught out when some clothing eating nanites (yes, some nut had done that. Not exactly super villain territory, just some smart but insane nerd who wanted to see the Avengers naked) had transferred from the team to them.

Steve still turned an adorable shade of red whenever anyone brought up that incident.

“That sounds like a valid excuse actually,” she told him. “I'm gonna go see if the sales ghouls have any ice cream. You want?”

“Dark chocolate chili pepper milkshake.”

Yep, boobs or no boobs, Tony Stark was Tony Fucking Stark.

* * *

When they arrive back at the Tower, Jane was completely unsurprised to discover they were the first ones do so. Thor had been happy to wear whatever she selected for him and Bruce wasn’t exactly a clothes horse (though he did seem pleased that he could get away with wearing yoga pants in public now), so they grabbed what was needed and retreated to the safety of home.

Once they deposited the various purchases in their bedrooms, Jane found herself seated on one of the common floor sitting room couches, tapping at her tablet while Thor watched the cooking channel (he was fond of Nigella) and Bruce did his own work. Both of the Avengers wore yoga pants paired with a top (black with a red racer back tank for Thor and grey with a loose lilac T-shirt for Bruce) and no meltdowns seemed imminent, so Jane counted their shopping trip as a win.

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=Thor.jpg)

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=Bruce-1.jpg)

Plus, as the first group back, they'd get to see the others trickle in after their own retail adventures. Somehow, Jane suspected that she had gotten lucky as neither Bruce nor Thor were overly picky about what they wore. Bruce's only requirement was that things be a bit loose while Thor would wear anything he fit into. Considering the fact that he was the Crown Prince of Jane found this to be a very endearing quality.

Nigella was in the midst of making it truly decadent looking chocolate espresso mousse when the elevator doors opened to disgorge an irritated, bag laden Natasha, an exasperated, equally burdened Phil and a grumpy Clint, who was clutching a single bag.

“Welcome home, friends,” Thor greeted them after pausing his program. “How fared your search for fitting attire?”

Letting her eyes slide over to Clint, Natasha said, “Someone disappeared into the air-conditioning vents at Saks and then thought it would be funny to scare the staff, pretending to haunt the place.”

“It was funny,” Clint replied, subsiding when Coulson gave him a look.

“One of them cried. It wasn't funny,” the agent said, then caught Jane’s eye. “How did things go for you?”

“No problems,” she assured him, knowing that was what he needed to hear.

“Thank God,” Phil muttered, then noticed Clint creeping out of the room. “No! Take these bags with you!”

“I don't need any of it!” Clint insisted, darting away which caused Phil to follow him.

“If you think you're going to wander around commando for the next three months, I'll have Thor hold you down and dress you myself!”

“I will help you, Son of Coul,” Thor said loudly, though Jane was pretty sure the others had disappeared from earshot. She was also fairly certain Thor was only saying that to mess with Clint in retaliation for the movie incident.

Shortly after the Avengers had all moved into the tower, Clint had convinced Thor that Star Trek was a documentary and when the truth had come out, Thor had been upset that he would never get to meet Capt. Kirk…Though Tony had somehow arranged for them to bump into William Shatner at a restaurant, which had been all kinds of awesome.

Alone again, Jane blinked at Bruce and Thor for a moment before saying, “We’re totally the normal ones.”

Thor nodded in agreement and restarted the TV as Bruce said, “Actually, I was expecting at least a little bloodshed, so they came out ahead.”

“Darcy and Tony are still out there,” Jane reminded him wryly, which earned a small chuckle.

“You have a point,” he agreed, then shoved a chunk of dark hair back out of his face. Somehow, it kept escaping from the messy ponytail he'd been sporting since the change.

“You should try a French braid,” she suggested. His hair was very thick and had a lot of texture, so the braid would hold well.

“Don't know how.”

“I can show you,” she said, rising then pausing to add, “I could do yours to keep it back, then demonstrate again on Thor if you like.”

“Yes!” Thor said easily, waving Jane toward Bruce. “Teach us this technique, my love.”

Bruce nodded his agreement and, after gathering a brush and some elastics, Jane settled on the back of the couch behind the scientist to wrangle his unruly curls. Thor perched nearby, watching intently.

Careful not to tug too hard on the tangled locks, Jane said, “If this whole situation didn’t violate the laws of physics and nature, I’d be wondering where all this hair came from.”

“Well, when you turn into a giant green rage monster, the law of conservation of mass becomes more of a guideline, not a certainty.”

He had a point.

She was just winding a lasting around the end of Bruce's braid when the elevator opened again to allow Pepper and Steve to exit. Several minutes earlier, the lift had past their floor and stopped at Steve's, clearly to allow the super soldier to deposit his purchases in his room.

Jane hadn't really known what to expect from Steve as far as wardrobe went, but this was not it.

Instead of looking uncomfortable and awkward as he had earlier, Steve was composed and calm and his outfit just screamed _Pepper picked me!_ in a good way.

Steve was wearing bright red skinny jeans, a navy and white striped top with a boat neck and ¾ sleeves and navy patent leather flats. His hair had been tamed into a sleek blond waterfall held back by a thin, sparkly headband and he was holding a small black bag in one palm.

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=Steve1stoutfit2.jpg)

Gaping seemed perfectly reasonable response, given the situation, so that was what Jane and Bruce went with. Pepper gave them all a quick smile, but hurried out of the room, tapping rapidly at her phone as Thor said, "Steve, I see your shopping expedition was a success!”

Steve turned faintly dazed eyes toward Thor and made a vague gesture with one hand. “Ms. Potts was extremely helpful,” he said softly, then glanced down. “I’m not sure about these pants though.”

“I like them,” Thor said as Steve crossed to one of the chairs and settled onto the cushions, crossing his ankles and folding his hands in his lap, like he was trying to sit politely, falling back on manners when he was clearly uncomfortable in his own skin. “Very eye catching.”

“Thanks,” Steve replied as Thor settled back to watch his show. Jane and Bruce returned to their tablets, pouring over all the scans and data S.H.I.E.L.D. had sent over concerning the teams current…situation. Jane thought Steve seemed torn between watching the show and actively radiating his discomfort.

Eventually, Pepper reappeared, dropping onto a couch with a sigh. “Well, Tony and Darcy are on their way home and I haven’t received any bail requests, so that bodes well for us all. Jane, Darcy wants to know why you’re not answering her texts…not that I blame you.”

 _Texts?_ Jane pulled out the sleek little phone Stark had insisted all Avengers (and Avengers adjacent folks) carry and frowned at the message on the clear display that informed her that she’d missed a dozen texts from Darcy.

Clearly, she’d forgotten to turn the ringer back on this morning.

The first read: _Tony thinks shoes are a good thank you/sorry/anything present. I need to hug Pepper 4 training him._

[](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=Darcytext1.jpg)  


Attached was a snapshot of an incredible pair of boots.

[](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=DarcysBoots.jpg)  


Looking up at Pepper, Jane quipped, “I think Tony’s trying to recruit Darcy to work for him using boots as bribery.”

Pepper looked at the picture and nodded. “Possibly. Those are nice boots,” she said, then extended one slim leg to showcase the terrifying Louboutin’s she wore. “These were an apology for causing three senior engineers to quit in one day.”

[](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=BGX082B_mn.jpg)  


“Darcy’s my assistant.”

“Tony knows that,” Pepper assured her. “He just appreciates her spirit.”

That made Jane grin. “Well, Darcy has plenty of spirit to go around,” she admitted. “Sometimes too much.”

“She’s a burrito of crazy awesome wrapped in a hot and spicy tortilla,” Clint said, throwing in his two cents as he landed on the couch, having dropped from the ceiling. Jane was never sure how he did that in this room, as there was no visible access to the vents. A part of her was sure that someday she’d catch him crawling along the ceiling like Spiderman or that creepy baby in Train Spotting.

“You’re using food metaphors, you need to eat something.” Natasha had appeared as well, perched on the arm of the couch without so much as a bump to announce her arrival.

Phil’s voice echoed from the room next door. “I’ve already called in the usual order at Shun Lee Palace. The food will be here in 20 minutes.” A granola bar came flying through the air and Clint caught it (without looking) about an inch away from his head. “That should tide you over.”

Ten minutes later, the elevator opened and Darcy and Tony came strolling out, unburdened by bags. Some of Tony’s never seen staff must have been tasked with delivering them to their rooms.

Darcy was wearing the awesome boots and Tony had on a pair of tight jeans, expensive, thick soled black high tops (that looked like the ones he usually favored), a snug black motorcycle jacket and dark sunglasses. His hair was pulled back in an artfully sloppy bun and his lips stained a vibrant red.

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=Tonyspicks.jpg)

“From the lack of riot police downstairs, I’m guessing everyone had a good time shopping?” Tony quipped, lowering his shades and looking around, “Seeing lots of athletic wear…Natasha, terrifying as always…Steve….Okay, wow.”

Darcy was grinning and shaking her head. “You all still look like movie stars or something. How is this fair?”

“Incredible good looks are compensation for being the ones who toss ourselves at the insane supervillians and their minions on a weekly basis,” Clint replied, then cocked his head to gaze at Darcy. “New boots?”

Before she could answer, Javris intoned, “Forgive the interruption, ladies and gentlemen, but young Mr. Hu has arrived with your dinner.”

Five minutes later, the large kitchen island was covered in the usual mountain of Chinese food, as well as the standard trio of pizzas that somehow appeared every time the team gathered for a meal. It was one of those things that Jane stopped questioning the first time she saw that Steve (though he tried to be polite and subtle about it), Clint (who did not try to be subtle) and Natasha (who no one dared to question – but where the heck did she put it all?) could nearly match Thor when it came to putting away their food. 

It was a good thing no one expected their appetites to have been effected by the change in genders, because Jane couldn’t see a difference. Tony and Bruce still picked at their food distractedly, Jane herself, Phil, Pepper and Darcy took normal sized portions (though Darcy co-opted most of the crab rangoons), while the bottomless pits took care of the rest of the food.

All in all, everyone was pretty well behaved…until Tony looked up from the fried rice he was pushing around the plate to ask, “Hey, I just had a thought! These bodies…All new and shiny, right? Think we’re physically virgins?”

Steve choked on an egg roll, which caused Coulson to reach over and pound him on the back. 

Bruce actually looked down at his lap curiously.

Natasha smirked while Clint scowled at the thought.

As usual, Thor took the question in stride. “Yes,” he answered, folding a pizza in half in preparation to bite into. “That’s how it always is with this spell.”

He seemed so sure of this that Jane wondered how he’d made that discovery. It was an intriguing line of thought.

“Can we please discuss something else?” Steve grumbled, still red faced but no longer choking.

“Sure, Cap, sure,” Tony said lightly, but something about his tone told Jane that he wasn’t about to let the topic die there.

Clearly, the next few months were going to be…interesting.

 

TBC….if people like it.

* * *

Comments, pretty please?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 begins.....

One of the less flashy, but no less useful aspects of super soldier serum was how it affected his ability to sleep. Sure, Steve knew he could go far longer and on less sleep than other people, but when the opportunity to rest presented itself he never had trouble falling asleep. It was like his body knew it should rest when it had the chance and when he told himself it was time for bed…Boom. Sleep.

No tossing and turning, no stressing over things he couldn't control and, at the moment, no internal meltdowns over the fact that physically he was now a she.

Sometimes he still felt out of place in his own body, but that was a discomfort he'd gotten used to. The lady parts though….

Sleep had been a welcome respite.

When he woke, Steve lay for a moment, hoping that the previous day had perhaps been one long, strange dream.

Unfortunately, the hair lying across his face quickly dashed those hopes.

Heaving a sigh, Steve sat up, flipping his too long hair out of his eyes before rising and padding over to the dresser, quickly tugging on workout clothes before making his way down to the warm-up room of their home gym.

To be honest, the warm-up room was what anyone else would call a large, well appointed gym. There were sparring mats, a boxing ring, weights and cardio equipment, even a high bar to be used for pull-ups or gymnastics work.

But the Avengers were different. Tony had given Steve, Natasha and Clint free reign to design whatever training facilities they wanted and the outcome was…unique. Four levels of controlled chaos, that's what Tony called final product. One floor was devoted to a firing range and weapons training while the others have been remodeled into a multi-level insane obstacle course that included your basic physical challenges, small explosions, lasers, live ammo, electric shocks and many other things designed to keep the team on their toes.

Tony and Bruce rarely ventured out of the warm-up room, but the rest of the team had a lot of fun with it.

Today though, Steve stuck to an easy routine, testing this version of his body to see what it was capable of. It was a relief to discover his endurance hadn't flagged, as he sprinted 10 miles on the treadmill in his usual time without running out of breath. The less bulky muscles of his arms and legs were slightly weaker than he'd become used to but still a good bit stronger than those of any non-superhuman man.

After an hour of testing himself, Steve was sure that, if it should prove necessary, he would be able to perform effectively as Captain America. He was still a super soldier, just packaged a bit differently.

Natasha appeared at 6 AM and they sparred until seven. Like himself, she was assessing her performance, adjusting to an unfamiliar body.

When they finished, she nodded and said, “Well, my center of gravity is different, arms and legs longer, but not too bad. I can still fight.”

She surely could.

They separated to wash up and Steve tackle the daunting prospect of showering head on. Head on and eyes firmly shut, trying to ignore exactly what he was doing.

It took longer than he would've liked, as he discovered shampooing and rinsing longhair took a lot of time, but eventually you reentered his bedroom, wrapped in his familiar if now too big robe.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Natasha perched on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and changed, obviously waiting for him. “Natasha!” he yelped, clutching the robe closer to his chest. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping you deal with your hair,” she replied, pointing with one long finger, “or do you know how to untangle that mess?”

To be honest, he did not, so he thanked her and allowed Natasha to shepherd him back into the bath room and show him how to work out the tangles. She also insisted he had to buy some conditioner, as it would make the battle easier. Once the long hair was dry, Natasha pulled back into a thick braid that draped over his left shoulder.

Her work done, Natasha nodded and disappeared, leaving Steve to dress in peace. He considered an accomplishment that he managed to get into the white, cotton underwear and bra without opening his eyes. Once those bits were covered, he felt less awkward and tugged on a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt and blue plaid shirt which he resolutely tucked in. A brown leather belt and boots completed his outfit and made him feel ready to face the day.

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=SteveDay2.jpg)

Entering the team kitchen, Steve made his way to the fridge, opening the massive appliance and peering into it. He liked the communal fridge, enjoyed seeing what his teammates put in there, as there was almost always something he couldn't recognize. As he gathered supplies to make an omelette, he said, “Morning, Clint.”

The archer was seated crosslegged atop the refrigerator, a mixing bowl full of Cocoa Krispies in his lap. “Cap,” he mumbled around his spoon, eyes only half open. “Coffee?”

After several…incidents, Clint and Thor had both been forbidden to operate the coffee machine and, since this was Tony's Tech they were using, the machine knew they were banned and refused to work for them. Now, they had to wait for one of the others to arrive before they could get their caffeine fixes.

Once, Steve had caught Clint eating instant coffee, dry. There'd been a tense moment before both decided never to mention it again.

“Sure,” Steve said, placing the omelette fixings on the counter and turning to the coffee machine, tapping the top with one finger to alert the system to his presence. “Could I please have a pot of Nantucket Blend. Extra strong. Thank you.”

Tony had told him repeatedly that he didn't need to be polite to the appliances, but then he made comments about them being sentient. It seemed only right to be as polite to them as he was to Jarvis.

Besides, if the machines ever took over like they did in that movie starring the governor of California, Steve thought it best to stay on good terms with them.

The coffee maker beeped agreeably and Steve went back to prepping his omelette, separating the eggs and mix in the yolks with a splash of milk before whipping the whites into a foam and folding them together. After pouring the mix into the pan, he sprinkled shredded cheese and a little sliced ham onto the top.

By the time the coffee was brewed, his omelette was ready, so he plated it, poured the coffee (handing Clint’s mug up to him) and took a seat at the counter to enjoy his breakfast.

Knowing Clint wouldn't be capable of pleasant conversation for a while, Steve thumbed on his Kindle, pulling up the days Times. Of all the technology he'd seen in the 21st century, Steve liked the pocket library best. It lacked the tactile sensation of real paper, but he was willing to trade that the lack of dirty, messy newsprint.

It was one thing to get covered in coal dust or ink for artistic reasons, another altogether to get filthy will simply trying to read the news.

Steve was halfway through the papers account of their battle with Loki (fortunately, no one had seen were gone down on the roof and S.H.I.E.L.D. Bad been quick to extract them) when Tony wandered in, making a beeline for the coffee. Clearly, he been up in the lab all night. He was wearing the same jeans he'd had on the previous evening, now stained with God only knew what and a tank top. His skin was streaked with engine grease and he smelled like burnt circuitry and smelted metal.

Tony didn’t acknowledge Steve or Clint, simply open the cabinet and reached up for mug. Then he froze. “Oh, I hate this,” he said, sounding slightly manic. “This is so, so wrong.”

He couldn't reach the shelf he kept his mugs on. This could be bad, Steve realized, knowing Tony was probably seconds away from scrambling onto the countertop to access said mugs. Sleep deprived Tony climbing the cabinetry was not something Steve thought would end well for anyone.

Standing, Steve crossed the room quickly and reached around Tony, snagging a tall, black mug and pressing it into the inventors hands. “Here,” he said, filling the cup and then pointing to the island counter. “Sit and have something to eat.”

Usually, it was a fight to get Tony to normal breakfast, but shockingly, he agreed with no fuss. “Sure,” he said, then downed half his coffee and topped it off before actually sitting. “What's to eat?”

“Eggs…I was thinking of frying up some bacon too,” Steve replied, the omelette not quite enough to sate his serum enhanced metabolism. He wasn't about to question Tony's willingness to eat a good breakfast and he knew the man loved bacon, so he wasn't above adding the incentive.

Clint however was entirely willing to question. “Okay, what gives?” he asked, still from atop the fridge. “Normally when someone offers you breakfast, you run, say you’re too busy, blah blah blah. Today, no fight. I mean sure, Cap’s ass looks great in those jeans, but it always does so that's not new.”

Flushing, Steve threw a cheese cube at Clint's head…which he caught in his mouth with a grin, completely un-chastised.

Tony just looked amused. “Well, obviously Cap’s perfect ass transcends gender, but usually I am too busy. Today, not so much. Until we go public with our little situation, I have no meetings, no boards of directors to appease, no press conferences...Pepper already yanked everything for my schedule before she went to the office this morning. Just working in the lab and right now Jarvis's fabricating a redesign of my suit in case we have to fight like this, so I'm free.”

That was good. Tony would soon be battle ready and Steve knew he and Natasha felt confident in their abilities to perform their duties. Thor never questioned his and Bruce…A giant green rage monster was a giant green rage monster regardless of gender.

Which left….

“Clint, we're sparring later,” Natasha announced, startling Steve, who hadn't heard her come in. She was perched on a stool by Tony and regarded Steve with a small smile. “I’d like my eggs poached.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. still has to get me a new bow,” Clint said, which caused Tony to snort into the plate of scrambled eggs , toast and bacon Steve had handed to him.

“Please, I'll be the one making your bow,” he said, pointing a fork at Clint. “We can measure the length of your arms later, figure out how much resistance your muscles can deal with… Clearly your sex change hasn't altered your need to assume the high ground.”

“Has anyone seen Bruce or Thor today?” Natasha asked, a question that drew a near hysterical bark of laughter from the doorway.

“Scene, no. Heard, yes,” Darcy muttered, shuffling toward the coffee pot and attacking it with fervor. “Multiple times, all through the night. The only stopped a few hours ago.”

Everyone took a moment to absorb that information before Tony said, “The walls are soundproof.”

Darcy gave him a dark look. “Not nearly soundproof enough,” she asserted, then ran and eye over the assembled group before jabbing a finger at Steve. “I'm sleeping in one of the spare rooms on your floor until this is over. Their normal noises, I can deal with that. Hell, they stay in their own room and I've had roommates before that haven't been nearly so considerate, but this marathon insanity…no.”

Red in the face, Steve could only nod agreeably and slide Sunnyside up eggs toward her. 

“Dr. Banner is sleeping on the cot in his lab,” Phil said as he wandered in, already wearing one of his sharp suits. A tablet was tucked under his arm, screen aglow, but he ignored it to continue, “S.H.I.E.L.D. has been making discreet inquiries amongst the superhuman scientific community. Dr. McCoy has offered any assistance he can. Apparently the X-Men are not unfamiliar with spontaneous mass gender changes, though theirs was due to the student’s uncontrolled mutation. Dr. Richards….”

“No. That stretchy fuckwit had better stay the hell away from me.”

“Richards is the king of douche land. How many times he dragged his group off to where-the-fuck-ever and left us to deal with whatever super villain of the week that shows up looking for them?”

“Oh my God, have him bring Johnny! I want to see if he tries to hit on Steve…or, ya know, any of you, but what with Stephen Johnny having the whole doppelgänger thing, it'd be like he was trying to hit on himself!”

Pausing to allow Clint and Tony's protests and Darcy's excited exclamation, Phil continued, “Dr. Richards was consulted, but is apparently ‘too busy’ working on ‘matters of the utmost delicacy and importance’. Douche.”

Opinions about the Fantastic Four were unifying thing among the Avengers. No one liked Richards, not even Steve, who is predisposed to like everyone (that probably had something to do with the fact that the man had demanded a blood sample before they even shaken hands). Tony had once expressed the opinion that Sue Storm was okay, but suffering from some kind of Stockholm syndrome with regards to Richards and they had all adopted that theory. Johnny Storm was kind of an asshole, but in the sarcastic, good-natured and likable way that fit in pretty well with the Avengers own dynamic. Ben Grimm was a good guy, steady, funny and a hell of a fighter, probably suffering the same Stockholm syndrome as Sue.

“Hey,” Darcy said suddenly, tilting her head to the side and considering Steve and Tony, “Are you guys going to just hang out here or use this to go out without having the fans and paparazzi chase you around? Cuz this is like the ultimate incognito. You guys and Thor could get a break.”

The media could be a bit overwhelming. Tony and Thor were swarmed wherever they went and Steve himself could rarely escape the attention. Bruce wasn't bothered often because everybody (even the paparazzi) were hesitant to provoke the Hulk. Natasha and Clint both used their skills to avoid notice most of the time, something Steve had been trying (unsuccessfully) to learn.

“Yeah, going out in public like this is high on my priority list,” Clint quipped, then shot Natasha a slightly nervous look. “Not that there's anything wrong with being a woman obviously, but me as a woman…yeah, so very wrong.”

“What the hell? Yesterday you were all ‘Oh, look, I've got boobs! They bounce!” Tony asked, peering up at the clearly grumpy archer.

Clint scowled down at him. “Yeah well, the whole ‘Oh my God, I got boobs!’ Thing quickly turned into ‘Oh. My. Fucking. God. I've got boobs. This is wrong…wrong, wrong, wrong.’”

“At the very least, we have to go have someone fix the butcher job you did on your hair,” Natasha replied placidly, much to Clint's obvious surprise. “What, you thought I wouldn't notice if you kept your hoodie up?”

Along with everyone else, Steve turned to look at Clint, who heaved a sigh and shoved back his hood. Yesterday, after the change, he sported long, light blonde locks which were now chopped off unevenly at chin length. “What?” he said defensively. “It was a tactical decision. Give the enemy less to grab onto during a fight.”

Natasha and Phil traded raised eyebrows will Darcy offered, “Short hair is in this season.”

“It suits your features,” Steve added truthfully. Clint's feminized face did have a slightly Elven look to it in the long hair had hidden that.

Tony pulled out his phone and tapped a button. After moment, he said, “Hi, can Simone make time for friend of Tony Stark today?...Yes, thank you.” He hung up and turned to Clint. “Get dressed, Katniss. We’re going to get your do done right.”

* * *

As Tony and half expected, the trip to get Clint's self-administered haircut repaired turned into quite the event. The archer had protested, relenting only under the combined stares of Phil and Natasha. They then proceeded to drag him off to be dressed in something more fashionable than oversized sweats and a ratty hoodie. Darcy scampered off to alert Jane and Thor about the trip, clearly having forgiven them for humping like insanely loud and enduring bunnies the previous night.

Well Steve cleaned up the kitchen (something he always insisted on doing despite Tony's assurances that he paid people to do things like that), Tony took a quick shower and dressed in one of the outfits he purchased during the previous days shopping expedition.

Initially, he been rather put out by the fact that he made for a very, very petite woman. Well proportioned, with a nice ass, but so small. Tiny hands, tiny feet, tiny little waist…It had taken Tony some time to come to terms with the fact that he was never going to be considered a physically imposing man, but he had always been strong, with more muscle than people gave him credit for.

Now he was a waif…though he discovered that tiny hands were excellent for delicate lab work. That was pretty awesome.

Plus, clothes looked really good on him. They always did, he was a hot guy. It was pretty cool to know that he still would've been hot even if he'd been born a girl.

After a shower, Tony peered at himself in the mirror for a long moment. Considering how badly he’d treated his body over the years, he knew he'd aged well and that translated to this body. Sure he had a few wrinkles here and there, but he always eschewed Botox, just as he turned his nose up at the idea of dying the smattering of greatest temples. He wore them like his arc reactor, badges of honor and accomplishment.

He'd survived a lot.

All in all, he thought he actually looked a bit younger as a woman, the effect of softer, rounder features. His shoulders and torso were narrow, which may be arc reactor, seated between his small but perky (and untouched by gravity) breasts, seem bigger than it was. His tummy was taut and flat, hips and ass gentle curves that led to slim thighs and legs.

A damn good package, if he said so himself.

Not quite sure what to do with his hair, Tony simply combed it, dried it and left it to hang loosely around his shoulders. Later he'd probably get annoyed and pull it back, but for now it was a novelty.

In his room, he tugged on a black bra and panty set (situating the cutlets more easily after having practiced with them yesterday) before sliding a high necked, black tank top over his head. The extra layer would help shield the reactor from public view, something he normally didn't bother with, but this was hardly a normal situation.

Or was it.

Abnormal had become the norm for them.

Next came jeans, a snug pair that may Darcy mutter about doll clothes, and a black three-quarter length sleeves shirt. Black leather, knee-high boots with a 3 inch wedge heel and a motorcycle jacket completed his outfit. Checking his reflection, Tony decided he looked good and stuck his cell phone and credit card into a pocket before selecting a pair of sunglasses and strolling down to the common floor with a planned to meet.

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=TonyDay2.jpg)

Steve, Darcy and Thor were waiting, ensconced on one of the couches. Still wearing the plaid and denim ensemble from earlier, Steve had added a tan barn coat in concession to the fall weather. He looked like some kind of Midwestern, all-American Farmer's daughter and, though he really worked the look, Tony sighed.

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=Stevescoat.jpg)

He had hoped pepper might have used her influence to sway steam away from all L.L. Bean and Grandpa wear.

Thor was wearing jeans as well, boot cut like Steve instead of skinny like Tony and Darcy. Somehow, he made Nikes and a red T-shirt with the words _Hammer Time!_ emblazoned across the front in silver look like the height of fashion. Thor never seemed to feel the cold like the rest of them. His hair was loose and wild, combed but still refusing to be constrained. Again, it looked intentional and very awesome.

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=ThorDay2.jpg)

Tony speculated that was one of his Asgardian superpowers, looking incredible no matter what.

Sitting between the two men, Darcy (still used to the warm, New Mexico climate) was wrapped up in an olive green canvas jacket and a colorful scarf. Her jeans were tucked into her new boots and she’d twisted her hair up in one of those clawed clips Tony always stole to keeps bags of chips from going stale.

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=Darcyday2.jpg)

“No Jane?” Tony questioned, flopping down beside Steve and enjoying the softness of the cushions. Despite what the others probably assumed, he had gotten some sleep the previous night…but sleeping slumped over her desk wasn't very comfortable, even if Dummy had draped a blanket over him at some point.

“Alas, no,” Thor said with a shake of his head. “She intends to stay and assist Bruce in investigating potential cures for our situation. I have assured her that it is unnecessary, but they persist.”

Leaning over Steve, Darcy whispered conspiratorially, “Also, I don't think she feels up to walking quite yet.”

Well, that made sense, considering what Darcy had said earlier about overhearing a multiples marathon. “Bruce isn't coming either?”

“He said he'd rather not,” Steve said, shrugging the shoulder his thick braid hung over. “You know how he doesn't really like crowds.”

“Who does?” Tony mused lightly and heard a snort behind him.

“You do,” Phil replied as he, Clint and Natasha entered.

Still was still wearing his typical suit, while Natasha had on a nicely cut pair of black trousers, black boots and a jade green shirt under brown suede jacket. Her short hair was artfully disheveled in a way that could've only been intentional, but looked perfectly natural.

Clint was wearing black jeans that fit, proof that he (or rather, Phil and Natasha) had purchased something the day before. If not for the size, his combat boots could've come from his normal wardrobe, but the purple, slim cut sweatshirt with a silkscreened hawk face on the front was new. His raggedly shorn hair was hidden under a battered Yankees and he only looked a little surly, which was actually his usual expression.

  
[](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=Philssuitday2.jpg) [](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=NatashaDay2.jpg) [ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=ClintDay2.jpg)   


On a normal day, the team and their associates could only fit into one of Tony's largest cars (the ones Happy didn't really like to drive because they handled like an unresponsive tank), mostly due to the fact that Steve and Thor, while slim hipped, took up at least as much shoulder room as to normal sized people.

Between their altered physiques and the fact that Bruce and Jane had begged off, they took one of the normal cars, Phil riding up front with Happy, Steve, Tony and Darcy on the rear facing bench across from Natasha, Clint and Thor.

From his seat, Phil handed a small bundle to Steve. “ID’s and emergency S.H.I.E.L.D. credit cards,” the agent told them, then pursed his lips. “I think I need to have words with the rookie in the Cover ID Department. No creativity.”

Intrigued, Tony plucked the cards from Steve's grip and began doling them out. “Stephanie Rogers,” he read aloud. “Nathan Romanoff. Antonia Stark, subtle. Bryce Banner, I’ll hold onto it for him. Clara Barton…think the kid in ID even knows there was someone famous with that name? And…Seriously! Thorina Odinson! That’s just…wow….”

“It is a fine name for daughter,” Thor declared with a grin.

When they reached the hair salon, Tony led their motley procession in, smirking at the wide, startled eyes of the staff and regular clientele. Clearly, they did not look like the salons target demographic.

Ignoring the gaping stares, Tony swept up to the desk and gave the thin, sour faced platinum blonde receptionist a bored sneer. He knew how to speak fluent snob. “She's here to see Simone,” he said, flicking a thumb at Clint as he slid a black Stark Industries card across the desk.

The woman, whose name tag read Isis, blinked and asked, “Name?”

“Clara,” Clint ground out, looking ready to make a dive for the display of expensive shampoos. The bottles looked heavy and, with his a, would make for dangerous projectiles.

“How…quaint,” Isis muttered, tapping at her keyboard. “Simone will be with you shortly. The rest of you are here…why?”

“Moral support,” Darcy chirped, poking at a jar of lotion that boasted to contain crushed diamond chips. “She's got some hair issues.”

Tony realized bringing Thor to this kind of salon was probably one of his best ideas ever when the Asquardian eyed the shelves of shampoo and declared, “There is far more selection available at Sam’s Club.”

That started Isis’s eye twitching, almost in beat with the rhythmic bass music being pumped through the salon. It only got worse when Clint complained to Natasha, “If you hadn't hidden all the clippers, we wouldn't be here. I could've buzzed it off and we would've been done.”

“You are not getting a buzz cut,” Natasha said evenly. “You want it short, ask for pixie cut.”

“I'm not a fucking pixie,” he mumbled, but knew better than to argue. Male or female, Natasha was the scariest person Tony had ever met. In a good what…well, sometimes in a bad way, but usually good.

When Simone appeared and ushered Clint off, Tony decided some form of distraction was probably required to keep the others from a) giving Isis a heart attack or b) having the cops called on them. Glancing over at the other side of the salon, he saw that only a few of the Army of nail techs occupied, so he waved the card at Isis again. “Add a mani/pedi to Clara’s ticket and we're all getting them too.”

Though Isis didn't like having them in the salon, it was clear she found that preferable to having them all linger around waiting room with her.

Neither Steve nor Thor had ever had their nails done (Thor really liked the bubbly foot bath), but everyone else was familiar with the process.

Normally, Tony stuck with a Gentleman’s Manicure and clear, shiny polish that entailed (He had better ways of driving his board of directors insane than to run around with brightly painted nails), but today he happily selected a bottle of Iron Man red polish and Gold for accents.

Thor stared at the array of choices and, eventually, decided to have a different color on each finger and toe.

Darcy went for a metallic turquoise and helped Steve choose a French manicure for himself, a subdued, classic style that suited him.

When Clint finally appeared, now sporting a flattering pixie cut that did, as Steve had said, flatter his features, he had gaped at them as though they’d all gone nuts. Then he sighed and shrugged. “What the hell?”

He picked a shade of purple that almost matched the accents on his uniform.

[ ](http://s711.photobucket.com/albums/ww115/kaitlia777/?action=view&current=nails-1.jpg)

Cutting his hair seemed to have mellowed Clint slightly with regards to the whole wacky-alien-magic-sex-change situation. As someone with ‘issues’ of his own, Tony realized Clint's mood had probably had something to do with the lack of control of the situation. Loki had again done something to him that he was powerless to control… But he could and did get a haircut.

It wasn't much, but the little things mattered.

One thing Tony never thought he find himself doing was sharing a spa day with most of his team, Agent Phil Coulson and Darcy. Still, it was actually kind of soothing.

The girl trying to exfoliate Thor’s feet discovered he was ticklish, which led to some splashing. It was funny enough that Tony made a mental note to give the poor girl a big tip.

Fortunately for everyone involved, the staff was too professional to comment about the odd calluses on most of their hands and they only twitched slightly when Clint refused to let them smooth out his skin. Tony's attendant wasn't so candid about her feelings regarding the oil and grease under Tony's blunt nails.

Honestly, it wasn't that bad. He did own (and use) a nail brush, but sometimes stuff got caught up under their. “This is just awful,” she clucked, using one of the little metal probes to carefully scrape all trace of grime from under his nails. “Not only does it look bad, but the grease here can transfer. Think about it. Every time you touch your face, it's like you're rubbing a pizza on your skin!”

Well, that was just inaccurate, but Tony was distracted when a strange woman stepped into the space between Steve and Thor's chairs.

“You two are stunning! Who represents you?”

Both looked resigned and Thor shrugged at Steve, as he clearly thought this was just yet another odd Earth custom he didn't fully understand. “Thank you ma'am,” Steve eventually replied. “We represent ourselves, I suppose. Personal responsibility is….”

“Oh that's just darling!” she practically cooed, producing business cards out of seemingly nowhere. “I’m Reggie Armstrong, talent manager. I could get you so much work.”

This wasn't the first time in agent had approached a member of the team. Tony was safe, as he already had his own people on staff, but he'd seen it happen to Steve, Thor and Natasha on numerous occasions, Clint a few times and once Darcy (though that guy had been sketchy enough to prompt Clint to produce a huge knife to ‘clean’ and scare the guy off).

Steve and Thor originally hadn't understood what was going on, but after few times they figured it out… And came to the decision to play dumb, usually with amusing results.

“We already have jobs, but thank you again,” Steve said, so polite butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

“I can get you more money,” she insisted. “Who do you work for?”

“That's classified,” Phil interjected from where he was getting his nails buffed to a shine.

The talent manager turned to him, but froze before speaking when faced with his cold stare…or perhaps it was Natasha's blank yet somehow terrifying expression. Darcy was mimicking her with surprising skill (Tony was sure Natasha was giving her lessons on how to be scary). 

Reggie wisely fled without another word.

“So, that brings the count to seven for Steve--ie and 6 for…Thorina,” Clint said with a chuckle, stumbling over their cover names. He'd taken it upon himself to keep a running tally of such things. “Nat’s still in the lead with 11.”

“Was there any doubt?” she replied, grinning at Clint.

Clearly, the nail techs thought they were all insane but were too professional to say anything.

They all deserved big tips.


	3. Chapter 3

So, the trip to the salon hadn’t been nearly as soul crushingly horrible as he’d anticipated. He actually liked the kicky pixie cut Simone had salvaged from his self-inflicted, combat knife trim and getting his nails painted wasn't bad. He liked the color and the shellac shit made them harder than normal, which was cool and vaguely weapon like.

When they got back to the tower, Steve had herded the team down to the gym (Clint was fairly sure Cap had been a sheepdog in a previous life) to assess everyone's new physical abilities. He even managed to pry Bruce out of his lab, much to the scientist’s amusement.

“I don't think letting the other guy out to ‘assess’ him would be wise,” Bruce commented as he stood on one of the mats, barefoot and wearing a different set of yoga clothes. “That would end badly for everyone.”

The Hulk tended to show up in a really bad mood. He had begun to chill out a bit after some violence, but, rescuing the occasional kid or puppy (Hulk had a soft spot for small children and animals, go figure), he still wasn't going to win any personality awards.

“Even if it doesn't have combat application, it's still good for us to get an idea of the strengths and limits we have in these bodies,” Steve said patiently, having obviously expected this argument. “I mean, I was flexible before, but with less bulky muscle I can put both my legs behind my head instead of just the one. I didn't know that until Natasha had me try it this morning.”

Every wizard brain in the room immediately came to a screeching halt at the imagery Steve had just presented them with (except Natasha, who was smirking knowingly). It took a moment for the more involved primate brains to kick in and snap them out of…whatever hot girl/guy had place they had retreated to.

“Okay,” Tony said, rallying (though, from his expression, Clint was sure he was going to revisit the idea of Steve's previously unknown flexibility later) as he turned Clint. “C’mon Artemis, let's check your wingspan.”

Tony took some measurements, then tested how much resistance Clint's muscles could work with when drawing an arrow to fire. Once finished, Clint made his way over to where Steve, Thor and Natasha were tossing each other around while Tony joined Bruce over at the treadmills.

Deciding his best bet was to just jump right into the action, Clint took a running start and leapt onto Thor's back, scrambling up the demigod like a spider monkey. Thor reacted by laughing and plucking him off his shoulder to throw at Natasha, who ducked neatly.

When he popped back onto his feet, Natasha had already managed to make Steve ducked to the ground in order to avoid a vicious roundhouse kick. From his position on the floor, Steve uses own long legs to trip Thor, who, realizing he was going to fall, angled himself to take Natasha down as well.

The end result was a puppy pile of heroes.

“Well, that's dignified,” Tony chuckled from where he was…taking apart one of the treadmills.

Of course he was.

“Tony, what are you doing?”

Raising a brow, Tony replied, “Making it more efficient.”

Across the room, Cap rolled easily to his feet and planted his hands on his hips to regard Tony. Given that Steve ran around the field in an outfit that made spandex look baggy, he clearly hadn't thought anything about how distracting tight, stretchy exercise gear would look on his new body. “Tony, knowing what you can do out of the suit is important.”

Tony leveled an exasperated gaze at Steve. “I weigh 95 pounds, am too short to ride on some roller coasters and I'm not a superspy, so I think that sums up how effective I'll be sans suit.”

For a moment, it looked like Steve is going to try to argue, but thought better of it. Clint figured it was probably pointless to try to dissuade Tony, as he was kind of epically tiny now. Like, even smaller than Jane, who was a tiny little waif of a woman.

Any discussion was interrupted by Darcy, who announced, “We’ve got guests.”

Coulson entered more sedately, with said guests. “Dr. Storm thought she'd offer her assistance, as Dr. Richards is occupied…Mr. Storm is here….”

“Because he ate an entire box of Lucky Charms and I wasn't about to leave him home alone on a sugar high. He'd chew the furniture,” Sue said sarcastically, rolling her eyes when her brother stuck his tongue out at her. “He's just here to be a pest.”

“You wound me, Sis,” Johnny said, bouncing into the room with the sort of contained energy that suggested he probably had recently eaten a shit load of sugar. “Well, wow!”

Like Darcy, Clint was kind of wondering if Johnny would go all creeper and hit on Steve, so he watched as the young man approached Cap.

Everyone did.

“Huh,” Johnny eventually said, tilting his head to the side. “Well, as I expected, you’re a total babe, Cap, but really, how could you not be? But somehow…No. This is surprising. I mean, even I thought I'd go all Narcissus and be all over you. Not feeling it. Weird.”

There was silence and Tony quipped, “Bravo on the mythology reference,Storm.”

Johnny snorted. “Hey, I read…and you’re a total MILF, Stark.”

Tony scowled and waved a pair of pliers menacingly. “Come over here and say that.”

“Kinky…Ow! Sue! Why are you hitting me?”

She'd slapped him upside the head with this sort of practiced, easy aim that suggested she did it often. “Because sometimes that’s the only appropriate response to you,” she said lightly. “Stop sexually harassing people and go play with Clint. You two usually get along.”

Clint rolled his eyes as Johnny loped over to him, looking him up and down with a wide grin. Holding up a finger, Clint said, “I might not have a bow at the moment, but I will use a gun if you piss me off.”

“Oh!” Tony shouted gleefully, sticking a hand down his shirt and rooting around. That was…different. “Hit him with this!”

Tony tossed a beige object to Clint, who snagged it easily. It took a second for him to figure out he was holding some silicone boob pad. It was nicely squishy and warm. Grinning, he waved the thing in the air and said, “Really? This is Johnny we’re talking about! He’d probably enjoy being slapped around with fake tits.”

Johnny nodded, completely unphased. “Probably, yeah.”

“Hey!” Darcy yelped, pointing a finger at Tony. “Our bet doesn’t count if you encourage him to slap someone with them!”

“The terms were never specified!”

Coulson pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why does none of this surprise me?”


End file.
